“How long have you worked for Eli?” I ask Clark, my nose now probing deeply into Eli’s life.
“For Eli, four, but for the Hart family, eighteen.”
“Months?” I lift my eyes from my phone and lock eyes with Clark in the rearview mirror again.
“No, years,” he replies with easiness, his eyes crinkling round the edges.
He’s a loyal employee. “You must really love your job.”
Clark takes a right, then a sharp left before continuing toward the beachfront to where Eli must live, before he adds, “When I was eighteen, down on my luck and in trouble with the police every other week—trouble that Eli’s father, Daniel, bailed me out of more often than I care to admit, usually for free—he made me an offer one night. A place to stay, a job, food, and clothes, on the condition that I break ties with the circle of friends I was keeping, to make new friends and build a new life.”
“And you took the offer.” I smile at him with kind eyes.
“And I never looked back. Best decision I ever made, Ms. Feelgood.”
“Please, call me Sapphire.”
“Sapphire.” Clark’s slight head bob of approval seals our friendship.
I quietly say, “The Harts truly change lives.” Mine is no exception. Eli has turned my concept of the ideal man on its head and revealed my own stubborn streak. I resisted altering the staffing event plans, even if being more adaptable might have helped. Still, I understand what strategies lead to the best results with people, and I’m proud I held firm. Ultimately, he’ll appreciate it, as will his brothers.
“They’re the best, Sapphire. You got yourself a good one in Eli.”
“So it would seem.”
He even let me bring my cat to our date.
The more I learn, the clearer it becomes that I could fall completely for him.
30
SAPPHIRE
“I brought a sticky lint remover.” I pull it from my bag and wave it in the air at Eli as if it’s a magic wand. I thought that the man who is so uptight his butt cheeks squeak might want that to get rid of the cat hairs on his sofa and clothes after we leave because Ghost’s hair gets everywhere, even underwear.
Having observed Eli for several weeks now, I know he prefers things done a certain way and I was shocked that he would invite a cat into his home, which is spotless and gleaming without a speck of dust. He has an aversion to most things, but apparently not cats, although he may regret the decision if Ghost decides to rub himself between Eli’s legs like he did the first time they met; I watched the vein in his neck visibly pulse with annoyance. That’s the reason I brought the lint remover.
In case of emergency, use lint roller.
Eli places his hands on his hips, transfixed by my ridiculous cat as he tilts his head this way and that, watching the bright flashing scenes playing on the television screen.
He’s completely unaware that I’m mesmerized by him. Today, Eli is wearing casual clothes, relaxed in his own home, which makes him even more attractive. The baggy gray sweatpants and the snug white T-shirt stretch slightly across his chest, emphasizing every contour of his broad shoulders and firm biceps, skimming his taut stomach, which ripples beneath.
As the sun hits the cotton fabric, it highlights every movement he makes, his heartbeat almost visible. He lifts his arms in the air and stretches lazily, gifting me a cheeky glimpse of skin, his sweatpants slung low over his hips.
He’s a temptation. I’m helplessly drawn in by every detail, including the outline of his cock, which is right there and keeps catching my attention.
I’m sure he wore them on purpose.
“Your cat is weird,” Eli says, completely bamboozled.
“I think he’s part cat, spider, and human,” I reply, unable to keep my eyes to myself as I lay the lint roller on top of the hallway table.
Get a grip, Sapphire.
I run my fingers through my beach-waved hair that I spent ages styling. I’m not really concerned about what anyone thinks of me, but today I took longer to get ready, wanting to look nice for him. Sexy. Hopefully.
I shift my attention to ogle Eli’s apartment—sorry, penthouse. It’s huge and overlooks the still-busy beach. I would give up one of my kidneys for the view alone.